New data has revealed that an estimated 1 in 8 Australian adults and 1 in 6 children are living in poverty. I am the sole parent of a three-year-old girl and we are living below the poverty line.
I work casually most of the week, attend university and my daughter is enrolled in childcare. I juggle all of the responsibilities and wear all of the hats, and I am trying my best to give my daughter a decent life despite the rising cost of living.
I remember feeling relieved when I read about the prime minister, Anthony Albanese’s, upbringing – the son of a single parent and raised in public housing. I was certain he would be a catalyst for change when he himself has lived it, yet millions of us are still waiting to be thrown a lifeline.
I wonder how many other Australians are suffering in silence – pretending to be OK when they are struggling to put food on the table. We qualify for assistance but I often think I will be taking assistance away from someone “more deserving” of help – which shouldn’t be the case. Sometimes it is the perceived judgment I might face that is the biggest hinderance.
Do the six-figure-salary politicians who make decisions for those of us living in poverty know what it feels like to be stuck in this insurmountable cycle? Do they know what it feels like to visit the GP and be forced to sacrifice grocery money to access healthcare? Have they ever felt the glare of angry shoppers who were held up because their card declined at the checkout and they had to decide which items could be put back? Do they lay awake at night and think about the fact that one episode of bad luck could lead to homelessness for them and their children? Do they also spend their free time scavenging for benefits or rebates that might alleviate the cost of living?
I knew that being a single parent was going to be hard, but nothing could have prepared me for the challenges lying ahead. I was in a relationship and pregnant when my daughter’s father became unfaithful and then decided to leave the country. I had been working full-time for five years and acquired two qualifications during that time, but with single parenthood on the horizon, I knew I needed to upskill if we were to live securely, so with a six-month-old on my hip I started studying for a bachelor’s degree.
For the first few months of my daughter’s life I had the choice of renting alone with a newborn or relocating and having support, so we moved in with family in a coastal New South Wales town.
The Black Summer bushfires were devastating for the local community and employment options were scarce, rental homes were limited as others had been displaced and the lack of childcare meant we had to move back to the city and stay with friends.
It was around this time that Covid-19 made its way into Australia and none of us knew what pandemic life would look like. Rental prices began to climb. I remember giving Centrelink income statements to real estate agents only to be told I would not be accepted, as the rental price was more than 30% of my income. I tried to explain that we needed housing, I was applying for the cheapest available properties and had no other options, but it was to no avail.
While attending job interviews and finding childcare I finally managed to find a private rental which was about 50% of my income at the time, but at least we weren’t homeless. Public housing wasn’t an option as the wait in our area is five to 10 years. The applications should probably come with a complimentary “Hang in there baby!” cat hanging on a branch poster to get you through the 10-year limbo.
I hope to finish my degree in the next three years and secure full-time employment, but I worry that the emotional, physical and mental health effects of our current situation might hinder my ability to study and complete weeks of unpaid practical experience – yet that is our ticket out of poverty.
No matter what you believe about the millions of us affected or how we ended up here – no person should turn a blind eye to this crisis. Australian children should not be forced to suffer from their parents’ financial stress or go to school with an empty lunchbox. The grim statistics for children and adults experiencing poverty are alarming and it is insanity to deny people adequate public housing and rental assistance that reflects the current market and area they live in.
Addressing the long-term effects of poverty such as increased mental health conditions (eg depression and substance abuse), worse health, poor education and the likelihood of poverty becoming intergenerational will cost Australia far more in the long run.
• The author is a sole parent working, studying and living in NSW
